


but you were always gold to me

by Huntchaser



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Episode: s01e01 Broken Bow, Episode: s02e26 The Expanse, Episode: s04e20 Demons, Episode: s04e21 Terra Prime, Episode: s04e22 These Are the Voyages, Feels, Gen, Lots and lots of feels, Post-Canon, Song Lyrics, Songfic, The one time i will ever acknowledge the finale because i wanted to write angst, also some pre canon stuff i made up for backstory reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:52:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntchaser/pseuds/Huntchaser
Summary: We were opposites at birthI was steady as a hammerNo one worried 'cause they knew just where I'd beAnd they said you were the crooked kindAnd that you'd never have no worthBut you were always gold to me





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I actually wrote something postable and I'm bad because I don't actually update my long fics anymore and I should but there's school stuff ( yay applying to college ) and personal stuff going on. Anyway, here's a quick ( took several months thanks author's block ) drabble that I did based around Always Gold by Radical Face, which I felt really reflected Malcolm and Trip's friendship through out the series.

_We were_ tight knit _boys, brothers in more than_ name _._  
_You would kill for me_  
_And knew that I'd do the same_  
_And it cut me sharp_  
_Hearing you'd gone away_

_But everything goes away_  
_Yeah everything goes away_

He had failed his duty, he had let his friend die. He could hear Trip’s mother crying and felt himself start shaking, it was all his fault. The rain beat down softly on the roof of the old church where the coffin lay open at the front of the room. Flowers surrounded the man, white ones and red ones, bluebells and sunflowers. Malcolm closed his eyes and felt Hoshi lean on him, seeking comfort from the broken British man, who wrapped his arm around her. Trip looked like a hero, Malcolm couldn’t help but think how well the morticians had fixed him up, it had hurt to see him look just like Sim all those years ago.  


Before he knew it, it was his turn to talk and he wiped away the few tears in his eyes and stepped up after Archer, trying not to show his sadness, trying to be the stiff upper-lipped Brit he was expected to be. Standing at the podium he looked at the people gathered at the private ceremony, very different from the large party Starfleet had thrown in his honor. This was more of Trip’s speed, or at least what had used to be his speed. He looked up from the piece of paper he had written a short speech on.  


“Trip and I were… well… best friends.” He started, biting his lip and taking a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, hands shaking on the podium as he tried to read the paper. “He was my brother, the brother I never had. I would kill for him and I knew he’d do the same for me. To find out he died. That cut deeper than a knife, but I will always remember him as someone who I could stick by.” Malcolm smiled and nodded, looking at the resting body of his best friend. “He someone who had been through so much, yet did his best to remain optimistic. I’ll miss him more than anyone I’ve ever missed because I love him. I love my brother and he shouldn’t have died. He was too good for that, but here he is. He died a hero, protecting a family. That’s what he’s always been to me. A hero.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling the hot sting of tears down his cheeks. “But everything goes away and Trip may have left this earth, but he will always be in our hearts.” He stepped down from his spot, walking past Trip’s body and smiling at his friend gently. “Rest well, brother.”

_But I'm going to be here until I'm nothing_  
_But bones in the ground_

  
_And I was_ there, _when you grew restless_  
_Left in the dead of night_  
_And I was_ there, _when three months later_  
_You were standing in the door all beat and tired_  
_And I stepped aside_

Three months ago, Malcolm couldn’t stand to be around Trip. The man had yelled at him, told him off for only trying to help ease the pain, but now he could see the man’s pain. His best friend was snappy, irritable without the sleep he had previously once had with no effort. He was often found hanging around engineering or the mess hall when he wasn’t on duty, usually doing something to try and distract himself.  


He blinked awake as he heard the chime from his door, wondering who it could be. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Malcolm opened the door sleepily. He was surprised to see Trip’s blue eyes staring back at his own grey ones. Trip didn’t look as good as he usually did, dark circles under his eyes, messy hair, and his uniform seemed just the slightest bit too saggy for the normally bold and strong engineer.  


“Malcolm?” Trip weakly and tiredly asked, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders slumped down. “Can we talk?” The man’s voice was cracked, fists bloodied and bruised from punching a bulkhead or a photo, Malcolm couldn’t quite tell. Formerly bright blue eyes were now dulled and dark, tears glossing over them and hands that were once steady and calm while piloting a shuttlepod were now shaking and balled into fists.  


Malcolm stepped aside, arm ushering Trip into his quarters, ready to help his best friend as much as he could.

_Everything goes away_  
_Yeah everything goes away_  
_But I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing_  
_But bones in the ground_  
_So quiet down_

He was sat at a bar, head in his hands and liquor still burning hot in his throat. His body shook, eyes ready to flow over with tears that he had been holding in all day. Wiping away the tears, he left some money on the bar to pay for the last drink he’d had and got up, walking out to the quiet Florida street. The air was cold, but not too much so, as he was able to walk around without his jacket on.  


He soon found himself walking along the scar that the Xindi had left, the same one that he and Trip had come back to all those years ago. He swore he could remember the exact steps they'd taken and the distinct lack of conversation there had been between them. His boots kicked the dirt and dust flew up, ruining the polish he had put on them that morning. He swallowed his emotions and sighed, finding himself in a park eventually. He knew he would get a scolding from Phlox in the morning when his allergies started acting up, but for now he just lay back on the grass and stared up at the stars, listening to the quiet sound of crickets.  


Grey eyes reflected the stars he was staring at, thinking about how they had become his home as well at Trip’s in their years together. He pressed his lips together and let out a thin sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He could lie down, no, not anymore. Not when Trip was stuck that way until he was just bones in the ground. He sat up, crossing his ankles and pressing his chin against his knees. The tears started to flow from the Brit’s grey eyes and he tried wiping them away to stop them, but they kept coming. The people he cared about always died because he couldn't protect them, why did fate have to be so cruel as to take Trip as well?  


He let out a loud sob, but felt a warm hand on his shoulder, a familiar one. “Come on, Mal, just quiet down.” When he turned to face the voice and see the hand, it was gone just like the gentle breeze that had been there a moment before.

_We were opposites at birth_  
_I was steady as a hammer_  
_No one worried 'cause they knew just where I'd be_  
_And they said you were the crooked kind_  
_And that you'd never have_ no _worth_  
_But you were always gold to me_

The ensign was beaten and bloodied, yet another Section 31 mission completed. He had snuck into medical to patch himself up, but still on full alert. His head was dipped into a cabinet as he tried to find some bandages and alcohol to clean up his wounds.  


“Need some help there?”  
He hadn't heard the other person come in, so he jumped, hitting his head on the cabinet. He scrambled out and stood up at attention when he saw the other man’s rank.  


“Calm down, ensign.” The other man drawled, eyeing up his injuries. “I'm here same reason as you.” He lifted his hand to expose a plasma burn to the other man. “They're in the top cabinet.” Malcolm was confused and tilted his head at the statement. “The bandages.” The other man replied, sitting on one of the counters. “Lieutenant Tucker.”  


“Excuse me?” The Brit replied, handing the southerner a roll of bandages.  


“I'm Lieutenant Tucker.” He smiled, the charming smile Malcolm knew came associated with Lieutenant Tucker among other things like how much of a southern hick he was. “What about you? What's your name?”  


“Reed.” He mumbled, grabbing some alcohol and starting to clean up some of the blood on his face.  


Tucker wrapped a bandage around his hand. “Reed, huh?” He knew the name in passing, the ballistophiliac British navy brat who had joined up in Starfleet just to piss off his Admiral of a father. He was always up to no good, at least that was what he had heard around the engineering corp. “So what’s got you sneaking in here?”  


“Bar fight.” Reed replied quickly, a bit too quickly for Tucker’s liking.  


“Hey,” Tucker called, catching Reed’s attention. “Missed a spot right there.” The Floridian pointed to an area around his cheek and Malcolm just smiled at him.  


“Thanks.”

_And back when we were kids_  
_We swore we knew the future_  
_And our words would take us halfway 'round the world_  
_But I never left this town_  
_And you never saw New York_  
_And we ain't ever cross the sea_

When he woke up the morning after the funeral, Malcolm found himself with a pulsing headache. He was in his hotel room, but he couldn't remember how he got back to his room. Sitting up, he saw the other bed in the room was empty, though the sheets were messed up from someone sleeping in them. He noticed the bedside table had two pills and some water, pain relievers for the hangover probably. Malcolm took the pills and popped them in his mouth, swallowing the water right after.  


“Feeling better?”  


Malcolm looked up and saw none other than Captain Archer, freshly wet hair from a shower, dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans. “Much. Thank you.” The Brit quietly replied, holding his head a bit.  


“You had quite the night, huh?” Archer asked, sitting on the bed across from Malcolm. “Are you sure you're okay?”  


“I--” The grey-eyed man let out a sigh and shook his head, knowing he couldn't lie to the Captain.  


Jon’s hands gently gripped the bed sheets as he looked at his friend. “You should've just come with us to the Tucker’s last night. They were making sure no one drank. They know how bad it is.” Jon couldn't will himself to say after Elizabeth because he knew it was still a sore spot to the Tuckers, a sore spot for himself as well, the effects of the Xindi were still hurting them years later.  


“It's alright. Lesson learned.”  


“You know Trip never saw New York City? I took him to Syracuse, where I lived when I was younger, but he never saw the city.” The older man sighed softly and pressed his lips together. “I mean with everything we did, we thought we would run the world someday but…”  


“We never crossed that sea.”

_But I am fine with where I am now_  
_This home is_ home, _and all that I need_  
_But for you, this place is shame_  
_But you can blame me when there's no one left to blame_  
_Oh I don't mind_

There was no way to console a friend who had lost a child they had only known for a few hours, Malcolm knew that, but maybe he could help with the blame. He had just come back from meeting with his Section 31 allies, though he hesitated to call them anything more than his allies, he even hesitated to call them his allies. It was the last time he would see them again, or at least he hoped. Harris had cornered him after Archer’s speech and he hadn't been able to return to Enterprise right away.  


He approached Trip’s quarters quietly, feeling wrong about this whole thing. He pressed the button softly, hoping Trip could hear its chime. He was surprised when he heard a weak-willed enter and watched as the door open. One gentle foot in at a time, he watched as Trip rose from the bed. His friend hasn't looked this since the Xindi attack, which seemed forever ago even though it was only two years ago.  


“What?” Trip groaned, rubbing at red and puffy eyes.  


“I wanted to check on you.” Malcolm mumbled, swallowing his anxieties for a moment. “And apologize.”  


“I don't need your pity, Mal.” The raspy southern voice growled, pulling on a sweatshirt.  


Grey eyes met blue ones and he sighed. “It's not pity.”  


“What is it then? It sounds like pity to me.”  


“I want to apologize for not being fast enough. I could have saved your daughter.”  


“The only people to blame is Terra Prime, Mal. There was nothing we could do.”  


“No! Listen to me Trip.” Malcolm snapped at his friend, blaming himself for the whole situation. “If I had gone faster with Section 31, I could've saved her!”  


“It's not your fault!” Trip’s voice was full of anger and sadness, the same it had been when the Xindi had killed his sister. “It's mine, okay. Let it alone.”  


“You can blame me, Trip. I don't mind.”

_All my life_  
_I've never known where you've been_  
_There were holes in you_  
_The kind that I could not mend_

_And I heard you say_  
_Right when you left that day_  
_Does everything go away?_  
_Yeah, everything goes away._

Malcolm pressed his lips together and stood up in front of the heads of Starfleet, a grin plastered on his face, though it was false just as everything else about the ceremony was. He looked out to the crowd and saw his mother and father there, as well as his sister and his crew. He was finally getting the promotion he deserved, but it never felt right, there were holes in the whole command structure of Enterprise now. Now that Trip wasn’t around they needed another commander on board and of course, he was right in line for that promotion.  


He felt the weight of another pip be added to his uniform, but somehow it didn’t feel right, like it wasn’t meant for him to earn this way. Trip’s parents weren’t there, no one related to Trip was as there was no one left. His sister was dead and his brother and parents were all but done with Starfleet and space. Yet there was an empty seat in the audience, the one where Trip was supposed to be cheering on his best friend.  


Grey eyes looked down and he let out a sigh, sitting back down next to Archer and T’Pol, both of whom gave him a nod, almost as if they understood his pain. They didn’t though, no one ever would. 

_But I'm going to be here 'til forever_  
_So just call when you're around._

“Pardon me, but if I don't realign the deflector, the first grain of space dust we come across will blow a hole through this ship the size of your fist.”  


“Keep your shirt on, Lieutenant. Your equipment'll be here in the morning.”


End file.
